


It's Beginning To Look A Lot Less Like Christmas

by GreyTabbyCat



Category: Forever (TV)
Genre: Angst, Emotional Hurt/Comfort, Friendship, Gen, Hurt/Comfort, Yuletide 2015
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2015-12-24
Updated: 2015-12-24
Packaged: 2018-05-07 10:38:40
Rating: Mature
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 3,571
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/5453642
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/GreyTabbyCat/pseuds/GreyTabbyCat
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>It's close to Christmas and Henry's alone in the morgue doing paperwork, but then he gets interrupted. Jo has a problem and Henry is there for her like the best friend he is. my entry for Yuletide 2015</p>
            </blockquote>





	It's Beginning To Look A Lot Less Like Christmas

**Author's Note:**

  * For [ArgylePirateWD](https://archiveofourown.org/users/ArgylePirateWD/gifts).



> Dear WD,
> 
> I hope you like this story. I tried to include as many of your likes as I could manage. I hope you'll enjoy your gift even though it turned out quite depressing and sad at times. I'm sorry! 
> 
> Merry Christmas anyway and a very happy New Year! :D
> 
> \---
> 
> And to everyone else reading this: Of course I hope that you enjoy this as well! :)
> 
> \---
> 
> Disclaimer: These characters belong to their rightful owners! I only borrowed them for the sake of this story and will put them back where I found them after finishing this story.

Blissful silence! Henry was finally alone in his morgue, having just sent Lucas on his way an hour after everyone else had left. There was not one member of his staff who had not said something about going last-minute shopping and hunting for the last – or all as it might realistically be in some cases – Christmas presents. 

Some other year Henry might have been able to relate, but not this year. This year he had had all presents since the first weekend of Advent and he was quite proud of himself if he dared to let his thoughts wander there. 

After he had turned off the radio in the corner playing Christmas music non-stop he sighed deeply at the new-found quiet. The music all day was bad enough, but what very nearly made his daily headache turn into a full-blown migraine was Lucas’ very off-key screeching. What he called singing was the most atrocious sound Henry had had to endure over the holiday season. But Henry just couldn’t bring himself to tell Lucas to stop when he was so enthusiastic about it - especially leading up to the holiday of love, peace, and giving. 

Now he was only left with the blinking decorations. He decided to leave them on for the time being and settled into his office chair to fill out the hopefully last paperwork before the holidays. 

Henry was pulled away from his writing after a while when he thought he’d heard sniffling. _No, there’s no one else here. I’m imagining things._ Henry told himself. _I should probably head home soon as well._ And with that he went back to work.

There! He thought he’d heard the sound again. Henry’s eyebrows knitted together in confusion and he stayed as still as possible, his head raised, attentive, listening intently. When he heard it again, he put his pen down to go investigate, still shaking his head at himself. 

He stood up and quietly left his office and then the morgue, all the while listening for any sounds. Standing in the hallway he concentrated on any kind of noise. Finally, he heard some shuffling and walked in the direction it had come from. 

Turning a corner he reached a portion of the floor that was temporarily used for storage, cardboard boxes stacked high. The festive lights from the other end of the hallway casting an eerie smattering of colours from seemingly far away coupled with the shadows in-between the boxes gave it a spooky atmosphere. 

He was just about to turn and go back to his office when a slight movement caught in his peripheral vision. “Hey,” he whispered, not wanting to scare the form he had made out there, sitting hunched over on one of the boxes, elbows resting on their thighs, head in their hands, a true picture of desolation. 

He still noticed the person flinch and turn away from him. He slowly inched closer. When he was only a couple feet away he recognized them. “Jo?” he uttered softly, “What are you doing hiding down here?” Henry was taken aback. 

Instead of an answer he only got what looked like a shrug from her and heard more sniffling. With a start he realized she must be crying. In an instant he was by her side, kneeling beside her. “Jo,” he tried again, “please tell me what’s wrong.” She only turned her head farther away from him, her hair falling like a curtain between them, effectively shielding her face from Henry’s concerned gaze. 

This behaviour, so unlike herself, broke his heart and made his mind jump around with possible reasons that could have brought this on – one more unsettling then the next. 

“Jo, please,” Henry now practically begged, getting more and more distraught himself. 

“I thought that… that everyone had left already,” she mumbled so quietly Henry had trouble hearing her. 

“I’m sorry to disappoint you,” he tried to lighten the mood – in vain. “But now that I’m here, you could talk to me,” Henry offered again, reaching out to rest a hand on her knee and squeezing softly, in what he hoped was a reassuring gesture. 

After a while and no reaction from her whatsoever, Henry was about to withdraw his hand, not sure whether she was still with him or had retreated into herself, when he suddenly felt Jo shift a little. Henry was truly surprised when he felt her fingers tightly wrap around his and heard her take a deep breath. 

“I…,” she started, but then faltered again. “I don’t know where to start,” she admitted finally.

“That’s quite alright.” Henry squeezed her fingers and rubbed his thumb along the back of her hand. He really did understand this feeling, oh he could relate so well! “Usually the beginning is a good place to start. Or somewhere that feels comfortable to you.” 

“Right!” Henry had never heard such a resigned and cynical sound in all his years. Had he not known already whatever was going on was truly bad, he would’ve known now. 

“Sorry, it’s just…”

“It’s ok. Don’t worry about it!” No need to make her feel any worse, if he could help it.

Jo glanced at him for a second, but averted her eyes back to the floor just as fast, sniffling again. Henry wasn’t too surprised when he noticed a few droplets land on her thighs, darkening the fabric there, but it didn’t ease his worry for his friend either. She still hadn’t told him about the cause for all this and it worried him greatly. 

“I’m here, Jo. Whenever you are ready to talk, I’ll be here to listen.” He squeezed her fingers again, a silent promise in addition to his verbal one. 

Jo took in a ragged breath, swallowed thickly and opened her mouth as if to speak, but only ended up opening and closing it a couple times, only taking ragged breaths and not succeeding in making words come out. She swallowed again, bit her bottom lip, and closed her eyes. 

“I’m…” her voice cracked and she coughed a little trying to clear her throat. “I’m pregnant,” she whispered finally, voice trembling and eyes still pressed tightly shut, not daring to look at anything, especially not Henry.

It took Henry a moment to process this statement, but when his brain finally did register the meaning behind her words his jaw dropped and he gaped at her in shock. Lucky, she couldn’t see him at this precise moment. 

The first thing that left his mouth after he had recovered a little was him asking whether she was sure about it. 

“Quite, after taking three tests,” she told him, chuckling mirthlessly at her own stupidity. “I’ve always been so careful. I have no idea what to do now,” she admitted taking a shuddering breath, her voice taking on a desperate note while more tears slipped down her cheeks.

Henry’s free hand, the one not tightly clutched in her grasp, found its way to her back, offering what little comfort it could. 

“It wasn’t supposed to go like this!” Jo cried, tears running down her cheeks. “Sean wasn’t supposed to die before he even reached the age of 40! And not of a heart attack of all things! I wasn’t supposed to be a widow so young! We were supposed to still be happily married! Sean and I were supposed to start a family of our own now! Sean and I! I sure as hell wasn’t supposed to be carrying some fucking stranger’s child inside me!” She was slowly working herself into hysterics. 

Henry swallowed hard, past the lump that was growing in his throat. Tears were forming in his own eyes at seeing his best friend in such a state of despair. He just wanted to make it all go away, but he knew he couldn’t, so he vowed to at least help her through this in any way she’d let him. 

Right now he knew what to do though. He took her hands into his and pulled her gently to her feet. Then, in one swift move, he gathered her into his arms, softly rubbing circles up and down her back with one hand. 

Henry continued to hold her silently in a big bear hug while she cried on his shoulder, her arms around his waist, hands clutching the back of his suit jacket. 

Once Jo seemed to have calmed down enough to walk and wasn’t quite clinging to him for dear life anymore, Henry untangled himself a little and slowly stirred them in the direction of his office. 

The morgue was practically deserted at this point. Still it didn’t feel like the right place to talk – if she was feeling up to that at all already. And Henry was sure she wouldn’t very much appreciate should someone wander down here and find her like this. 

Jo didn’t offer any kind of acknowledgment or resistance, not when Henry shuffled them along to his office, not when he sat her down in one of the chairs in front of his desk, a true testament to her distraught state. 

Henry could only begin to imagine what kind of blow that must have been to her, like the proverbial rug had been pulled out from under her feet, shifting literally everything for her. Yes, he had raised Abraham and he had become a wonderful man, but his situation had been so, so different from Jo’s current circumstances. Henry looked down at his friend, concern and worry evident in his sad eyes.

“Jo?” he approached her carefully, not wanting to scare her after their long silence. “Do you want to talk about it?”

She looked up at him, a pained expression on her face, some silent tears still rolling down her cheeks, following in the wake of those that had already taken the same path, with her breathing still unsteady too. Then she averted her eyes back to the floor and shook her head a little. 

“That’s fine. I understand,” Henry told her softly. “But I want you to know that I’m here for you. Any way you need,” he added emphatically, “Ok?” 

She looked up at him then and Henry nodded at her, fortifying his words. “Thank you, Henry. This really means a lot to me.”

“You’re very welcome, Jo. Now I’m going to go and call Abraham. Have him pick us up.” A surprised look crossing Jo’s features. “You are in no state to drive. And you didn’t truly think I’d let you catch a cab and go home alone, did you?”

“I suppose not,” she admitted quietly to a point on the wall, somewhere to Henry’s left. 

“I’ll only be a minute.” Henry made to leave his office, but Jo reached out and grabbed his hand, holding tight, rummaging in her coat pocket for a bit with the other and then handing him her cell. 

Henry squeezed her fingers reassuringly while dialling the shop where Abe was taking stock tonight. And after some initial difficulties with how to operate her phone he was finally successful. _Can’t anything modern ever be easy and straight-forward?_

“Abe’s Antiques! Hello?”

“Hello Abraham! Would you mind coming over and…?” 

“What happened to your bike, Henry? You haven’t had it stolen **again** , did you?” 

“No! Nothing of that sort, Abraham!” Henry exasperatedly rolled his eyes at his son’s train of thought even though he couldn’t see it. “Please just come over and pick us up.” 

“Us?” 

“Jo and I.” Henry could practically hear the questions running around his son’s head, so he tried to put a stop to it before Abe could even get one of them out. “I’ll explain later!” 

Jo shot him an uneasy look at his last words and Henry hung up rather abruptly and handed the phone back to Jo who pocketed it again. He sat down in the chair next to hers, never letting go of her hand. “I won’t tell him anything you don’t want me to. I promise,” he told her with a squeeze to her fingers, diffusing her momentary fear. “I only wanted him to shut up and get moving,” he added with a small rueful smile and was rewarded with an almost-smile from her in return.

They waited in silence for Abe to show up, Henry instinctively sensing that he was better off keeping his mouth shut for once and heading his own advice. 

When Abe finally called Henry’s office phone to tell the pair that he’d be waiting for them outside in the car, they moved to leave. Henry grabbed his coat on the way out the door and locked up. In the hallway Henry reached out and put his arm around Jo’s shoulders drawing her in close to his side. They walked silently, safe for some occasional sniffling, never letting go of one another. 

Outside, they both got into the back of the car, and Abe, always the keen observer, threw them a curious look, but wisely decided to keep his mouth shut and skilfully pulled into traffic. 

Traffic was light, considering the time of year, and they soon reached the shop. Upstairs, Henry took Jo’s coat and hung both their coats up while Abe proclaimed he’d go and make tea. 

Henry and Jo settled next to each other on the couch in the living area and Henry began to wonder whether he had ever said so little in one evening while having company. His thoughts soon went from his momentary mirth back to concern for his friend though. 

He was worried, plain and simple and he felt the strong urge to help her with this situation she found herself in. He just didn’t quite know how. She wasn’t talking very much yet, but she hadn’t taken off running yet either which Henry thought was a sign that he was doing something right. The not-talking he could understand. She had to get her head around everything first. He just wished she would let him help with that. 

Both were so lost in their own thoughts that they barely noticed Abe putting two cups on the table in front of them, declaring that he would now retire for the night. Henry was more thankful for his son’s observation skills in that moment than he had been in a long time. 

Henry handed one of the cups to Jo, before taking the other and taking a sip. Jo just stared into the tea as if the answers to her questions could be found in the dark liquid. At least she seemed to have calmed down from her earlier outburst for now. 

“What do I do now?” she asked suddenly, startling Henry a little. 

“You have options Jo,” he said softly. “Please forgive me if this is too intimate a question, but do you know how far along you are?” 

“Intimate?!” Jo snorted. “Henry forget about intimate! You basically knew I was sleeping around with perfect strangers five minutes into our first meeting!” 

“I’m sorry,” Henry muttered meekly

“No, Henry. That was uncalled for and I’m sorry. I’ve just been so damn irritable lately,” she admitted. “And to answer your question, it’s been about three weeks since I last went home with anybody and before that there’s too big a time gap for this to still fit.” 

“So three weeks then. There are a number of options for you to consider…,” Henry began before being interrupted.

“I know. I… I just don’t know what to do,” Jo said dejectedly. 

“You don’t have to have anything figured out yet, Jo,” he assured her, “You still have a little time before a decision needs to be made.” 

Jo reached out and squeezed Henry’s forearm. “Thank you, Henry, for being here, for not judging me for my bad decisions, for being my friend. Thank you for everything. It truly means a lot to me.” There were tears in her eyes again after this heartfelt declaration, but there was also a ghost of a smile present once more as well. 

“You know, I’ve made my fair share of bad decisions as well. And as I told you before I’m not a judgmental person. Also, you’re my friend, a person I care very deeply about, so any way I can help you, I will. That’s what friends are for, isn’t it,” Henry reminded her just as sincerely. 

Henry took her teacup out of her hands and placed both back on the table, the contents gone cold now anyway, before reaching around her shoulders and drawing her in close to his side again. Jo snuggled closer still and rested her head on his shoulder, her eyes landing on the small decorated tree in the corner. 

“You know what’s ironic?”

“What’s that?” Henry asked softly.

“If Sean was still alive,” her voice caught in her throat and she took a deep breath before continuing, “I’d probably be ecstatic now.” 

“Oh?” 

“Yes, well,” Jo became a little flustered, having revealed more than she’d meant to, “I’ve never actually told anyone because it didn’t matter anymore anyway, but a few weeks before Sean,” her voice faltered slightly again and she swallowed thickly before being able to continue, “left for Washington, we began talking about starting a family.” 

Henry pulled her even closer, squeezing her shoulders. He knew that it was hard for her to talk about her late husband and he could only imagine how painful it had to be for her to remember this particular piece of memory now in her current situation. 

“This would probably have been the perfect Christmas present had life not decided to be so fucked up,” she said wistfully. “Funny how ironic my life turned out, isn’t it?” she chuckled without any trace of humour. 

“I can’t say that I haven’t made the same experience in my life,” Henry agreed sadly.

“Life has a tendency to suck, huh?” Jo mumbled, snuggling even deeper into Henry’s embrace. 

It felt natural to Henry being so close to Jo. It even felt nice if he were honest with himself. Even these prolonged times of silence weren’t awkward. And Henry was glad Jo felt comfortable enough around him to let him see this side of her that she usually kept hidden so well.

After a while Henry felt Jo relaxing and going more and more slack against him, so he nudged her lightly, murmuring, “Maybe it would be better if you went to bed. What do you think?” 

In response she only tightened the hold she had on him, slurring an “’S nice.” 

“Alright, but only for a little while longer. Ok? You will be more comfortable in a real bed.” She nodded slightly, half asleep already and Henry shook his head at the situation, feeling oddly reminded of negotiating with a small Abraham. He also remembered something else he’d done when Abe was little. He figured _might as well_ and began humming a calming melody that he still remembered from his own childhood while gently running his fingers through her hair. 

Some half hour later Henry decided that it was now really time for Jo to go to bed. He himself wouldn’t mind some sleep either. It was late enough. So he nudged her softly again until she had reached a semi-conscious state. 

“Time for bed,” he explained at her bleary expression, “You can take my bed and I’ll sleep here on the couch. Come on.” Despite her initial protests, he helped her to her feet and guided her along the hallway and into his bedroom. “Would you like something to change into?” 

She shook her head and simply sat down on the edge of his bed to remove her shoes and belt, lying down and pulling the covers up over herself.

“Good night Jo. Sleep well. If you need anything, you know where to find me.” Henry had just turned to leave when she spoke up again. 

“Henry wait!”

“Yes, Jo?”

“Would you… I mean, would you maybe stay? I don’t… want to be alone.” Her voice grew quieter and more unsure with each word until it was barely above a whisper and Henry had to strain to hear her. 

“Of course.” Henry closed the door, moved to the other side of the bed, removed his jacket, tie, waistcoat, and shoes, and got under the covers too, a respectful distance away from her, both resting on their backs. Then he turned off the lights and bathed the room in darkness.

“Thank you, Henry. For everything.” Jo told him again, reaching across the mattress in search of his hand. When she finally found it she squeezed his hand and Henry squeezed back before Jo withdrew her hand and turned on her side. 

“You’re very welcome. Good night Jo.”

“Good night Henry,” she yawned and was asleep in a matter of seconds with Henry soon following her example. 

When she woke at some point in the night, she found that Henry and her had migrated towards each other in their sleep. Her back was now firmly planted against his chest and his left hand had somehow found its way onto her middle.

She took his hand in hers, intertwining their fingers, and rested both their hands back on her belly. Her last thought before falling back asleep was that she could trust in Henry’s words, his loyalty and care, and count on him to be there for her whichever way she would decide to take in this situation.

**Author's Note:**

> Writing this story was a bumpy ride for me and I really hope that it turned out ok! I have to admit I'm very anxious about this story as I've never written a story specifically for someone before...


End file.
